Wartime Reflections
by ladivina
Summary: Gaston thinks back on the war, what influences did it have on him. Why would such horrors calm him down in the first place?
1. Arrival

**Okay, during a conversation I had with ImagineATale, we talked about how Gaston ended up so mentally unstable. Strangely enough we even started to feel sorry for him as I gave various reasons how it might have happened.**

Wartime Reflections.

Chapter one

"Go back to the war! Think of all the blood, explosions, countless widows!" LeFou tells you.

"Widows..." You breath.

You think back of those glorious days, the day you first arrived at the front. Only sixteen years of age and dreaming of what it would bring. It didn't take long before the dream shattered and you saw all the horrors that came with it. How naive you had been, thinking it would be fun to be able to blow things up. Finding out all to soon of all the lives that ended in one explosion. So different from all the little ones you made back home.

You hear your father's words repeating in your head, "You are my son, that means you're strong. Stronger then all the other men that go there, they are weak and will find themselves lifeless in the dirt. Be strong and you'll return safely, return a hero and make me proud son." Another explosion rings through your ears and you shut it out, thinking of the ones back home, that had been so much fun. You hear the command to attack and you snap back to attention.

You are strong, they are weak. You play this repeatedly in your mind as you fight your way through enemy lines. Seeing the blood you spill, you feel your knees weaken and think back to your father's words. No, you will not give in, you are stronger then this. You are Gaston and will not be lying facedown in the dirt. You reach the other side of the battle and see an officer sitting on his horse and pull your trigger. You release the breath you were holding when you see the man tumble from his horse. Then he lies still in the dirt, he was weak. Your comrades have arrived and the soldiers that were left fled, you feel clapping on your back and hear the many praises for killing the officer that is still lying at your feet in the dirt. You decide then and there that you will never end up there, you are a hero.

You've won your first battle and they are all celebrating their victory. You see faces flash by of those you've killed earlier that day, you put down your drink and leave the party, getting some fresh air. A crying woman draws your attention, you go to her and ask what's wrong. "My husband didn't return today from the battle." She sobs. You want to console her as a gentlemen should, and wrap an arm around her. You ask where she lives and you escort her home, when you have arrived she asks if you would like a drink. You agree to be polite and go inside, she tells you of her husband, an officer. You see his face again, the wide open lifeless eyes that stared up to you as he lay there. When she's done talking she wraps her arms around you, she wants you to help her forget he's gone. She then leads you to the bedroom and when she kisses you, you no longer remember the faces of the men on the battlefield. You calm down and reciprocate, you would help her forget and forget it all yourself.

You return to the camp and your comrades, thinking of what had just transpired. You hope that maybe tomorrow will be better, less blood and bodies to take over your mind. You think back to the widow and the images leave your mind again.

Why did this all have such an effect on you, it wasn't supposed to, your father thought you better than that. You are above such weaknesses and you want to make your father proud.

When you go to bed you think of the widow and how she made you forget. You close your eyes and an image of an explosion scattering bodies turns into one of the innocent once you witnessed at home. You once more see the officer's face and think of his widow and you finally relax.

You turn your thoughts back to the present. Your friend is in front of you and you smile. Yes widows... The one thing that always helps you forget.

 **Let me know what you all think!**


	2. Hunting

**I'm back with the second chapter, disturbing as it may be.**

 **Child of Dreams, welcome to my new story! Hope you'll like this just as much even though this is completely different.**

 **ImagineATale, yes we really had one hell of a disturbing conversation.**

Chapter 2

After that first day on the battlefield, you get a reprieve. The enemy had retreated and there were no new orders. All you had to do was search the woods for any hidden soldiers left behind.

The first week had been quiet and gave you time to reflect on that first horrible day. You are afraid that one day, you'll find yourself in the dirt. Back home the idea of coming here had sounded so good, but reality had quickly reared it's ugly head. Now you were carefully making your way through these woods, hoping there was no one stronger than you.

There is a sudden noise behind you and your heart starts to pound in your chest, you can't remember ever having been this scared. You turn around and see a deer jumping through the dense forest, you smile at the sight. Then you hear a loud bang and feel a sharp pain in your upper arm, you look at the hole in your coat, that is quickly staining red. You see him hidden and you hide, praying there are no others. Keeping your eyes on where you had seen the other young man, you find his eyes staring coldly at you. He looks so strong, but you want to prove to your father that you're not the weak one. You will not be the one lying here, lifeless and cold. You remember the deer that had distracted you, how you would like to hunt it down and make it pay for distracting you.

You see a flash of the gun from the soldier, he is now hunting you. You smirk, you loved to hunt back home. If the man wanted to hunt that was fine by you, except he would find himself to be the prey, you are the hunter. You can't remember the last time you missed your prey, one arrow or bullet was all he ever needed to bring down the mightiest of animals you came across.

This man was now your new prey, you stalk through the trees, making sure the sun stays at your back, making you hard to see. You lift your rifle and see the gun of your prey flash again. You pull your trigger and hear a yell. You hit your mark as always, no prey would ever escape you, the best hunter of the village, even at this young age. You hear your prey pant and walk up to it, you see a glimmer near your prey and shoot again, this time in the liver, making sure it can't use the pistol it had been reaching for. You look into it's eyes, where they used to be cold, they now stare at you pleading for help. You would help it, you lift your gun and pull the trigger, putting your prey out of it's misery. This is just another hunt to you and no prey will ever best you.

 **Let me know your what you think in the comments!**


	3. Fools Equals Tools

Welcome back!

I was hoping to post this chapter yesterday, but I had trouble bringing myself into Gaston's dark mind-set and decided to wait another day.

ImagineATale, this is only the beginning, it will only be a matter of time before these thoughts become natural to him. Hiding the horror behind something familiar is the first step.

TrudiRose, those moments will be coming, the war has just started for him after all. I believe LeFou was there myself, so he'll make an entry eventually.

3431jess, thank you for the compliment! I try to go inside his mind as much as possible.

Chapter 3

It's been days since you were shot in the woods and after the shock wore off, you remembered the face of your prey. The face of a young man, not much older than you. What is this war doing to you?

Your injury was minor and you look at the dressed wound. It was a weakness, intolerable. You rip off the bandage and throw it to the ground. You see the closed, stitched up wound and touch it, you wince. You dress, but leave the bandage off, you are not weak.

Your name is called and you report, you and seven other men are send out to explore the area for any enemies. You strike a conversation with two of your comrades, they tell you how they miss home and wished they hadn't come here. They tell you of all the pain and suffering they had. You start to seethe, how dare they complain, you are the one with a stitched up arm. You tell them to stop their complaining, how giving in to the pain means death and how you'll never give into it. You see them shaking their heads, but you don't care, you'll prove to those fools that giving in to the pain means death.

You talk some more and you notice two in your group limp, you make a mental note of this fact, they would most probably be the first targets of the enemy. Glancing over the rest one seems to avoid anything strenuous with his right arm, the rest appear to be faring better.

Noises can be heard around you, you hear a slight click and you recognise the sound, you quickly pull the collars of the two men in front of you, you all fall to the ground just as the gunshot rings. One of the men with a limp falls to the ground bleeding. The two men you took down with you look at you gratefully, knowing you potentially saved their lives. They quickly ready their rifles and another shot is heard from the side of the road. The other limping man has just gone down, the enemy was targeting the weak once first as you predicted they would. You and the two on the ground quickly discover where the two shooters are. But the first shooter is ready to fire again, you make a quick decision and shout to your comrade with the injured arm to bite through his pain of his wounded arm and do something. The shot rang out and the injured soldier goes down, immediately following that shot your comrades have pulled their own triggers and you hear the screams of the two soldiers on the roadside. You walk up to the first one with your rifle and smirk, you thank him for ridding you of the weak soldier, before you shoot him through the head.

Another comrade took care of the other one. On the road you all look at each other and glance at the three fallen. You thank them for being weak, making such good targets. Your comrades look at you in shock, you smirk at them. You tell them they were mere tools for your survival. Their injuries became their downfall, you feel your arm getting wet and see a stain coming through. You pulled your stiches, but you didn't give in to the pain. Giving in means death as your three comrades have so kindly demonstrated.


	4. Worthless

I'm treating you all to another chapter today, next one might take some time, considering I've spend enough time in that head for now.

Chapter 4

After the previous incident the men started to be more careful around you, afraid you might use them next. You are starting to built a reputation for yourself, one to fear.

New soldiers are arriving at your camp today and you hope they will prove more useful than your current comrades. You have no use for those that behave pathetic and weak.

You get assigned a new soldier with no experience, a boy, just 15 years of age. You sigh, the boy looked as if even the slightest breeze would take him down. You teach him how to work his rifle and he seems to pick up all you're teaching him really fast. Maybe the boy wouldn't be a complete waste of time, you think.

Several weeks past and the boy showed good promise, he has a good aim and is fast at reloading. Your Captain tells you that you're moving camp. You and your comrades all walk to the new campsite and you keep your young charge close.

You see the new campsite and you unpack your belongings and help the boy when you've finished. You could see the enemy line in the distance when you arrived and you prepare yourself for a battle in the near future. The boy seems fearful of the news, you try to reassure him, how you will protect him as long as he's strong and brave. You see him nod, he doesn't want to disappoint you, you see some fire in his eyes.

The next day, it is time, the alarm bell sounds and you get ready and help your young charge. You move forward dragging the boy along, he feel him shaking with fear and tell him it is time for him to become a man. You shove his rifle into his hands, but he hesitates, you grab your own rifle and shoot the one your charge was aiming for. You tell him one more time to grow up and shoot. The boy looks with pure fear in his eyes and drops his rifle running away. You take your pistol and a shot rings through the field, the deserter falls down.

After the battle your commander comes for you, asking why you shot your charge. You just shrug and say that the coward was not worth your time and tell him to send someone useful the next time.


End file.
